Whipped
by A Sapphire Sky
Summary: Oneshot. Paul's POV. Suze comes over for a shifting lesson. It sucks a lot. Try it please.


Damn her. I just can't get her off my mind. How freaking embarrassing. I hope she didn't notice me practically drooling at her in class. I mean, she did look hot today, what with the white shirt.

God forbid it got wet…

This is getting way too pathetic. Thinking about her every second? Oh please, I'm so much better than that. What would she think if she knew I was such a loser? Eh, it's not like she knows I'm thinking of her now…

Ack. Sorry. Guess I should explain, eh?

Her name is Susannah Simon. It's always about a dame, isn't it?

Anyway, she's got gorgeous long wavy hair, the most beautiful emerald eyes, a really nice bod, and major ass kicking and shifting potential.

Actually, she's got the ass kicking down pat. Lord knows I should know. She's whipped my ass and busted my nose a couple times more than few.

The reason for it? It's because I'm a little less than gentlemanly to her compared to her Rico Suave. Maybe that's why she never gives me a chance. The crappy part about it is that when I'm with her I forget all about 'the being nice rule' and her ghostly boyfriend. All that matters is her. Us.

A doorbell interrupted my thoughts. Just in time, too. I was starting to think that I could "forget to be nice". Pscht. Yeah right.

I answered the door. Holy crap, there she was. Did she know I was just thinking of her? Oh my god, she's pyshic!

'Suze?' I said confused. 'What?'

'Listen up you psycho,' she said in that, 'let's bitch' attitude of hers. 'I'm not here by choice. I'm here for the freaking lessons.'

Ah. So technically she was here for Jesse. She refused going home with me and was totally bitching me. But lookie here, she showed up! What a selfish brat. The shifter lessons are not about Jesse. They weren't even about shifting. Well, they partly were. They were about me and her having, erm, alone time. So I didn't really care why she was here. Suze and I were alone, and me being, erm, the host with the most, cause you see, I'm not a hostess, or I would be a g-

I'm rambling. Paul Slater does not ramble. And he's never nervous. What is wrong with me?

Anyway, me being the host with the most, I decided to be welcoming.

So I raised an eyebrow and said, 'Lessons? What _kind _of lessons? Do explain.' I paused, but only for a second, then wiggled my eyebrows, 'And then I shall perform.'

She whacked my chest, 'Good Lord. Does your mind constantly reside at 69 Gutter Lane?'

'But of course. I aim to please others.'

Lame response, I know. But what I said had insinuated that she liked me that way, which was totally not the case, but when her cheeks flamed I knew I had hit a soft spot. If the fiery glare she gave me after was any indication. Oh, if looks could kill.

'After you.' I said to her, indicating to the stairway leading to my room. I almost bowed with a hand behind my back, but that was not my cup of tea. It'd be plagiarism of The JesseTrademark. But then again, if she wanted to make out with _me _and have _me _call her 'querida', I just might. Anything for a make-out session without her thumb trying to blind my pretty blue eyes.

When we got to my room, she didn't even sit down. She just stood there. So I placed my hand over hers and dragged her over to sit on my bed.

She gently pulled her hand from mine, and set her back on the pillows, resting, and probably expecting me to pull out a dusty book about grandpa.

I didn't.

We had this huge silence. Totally weird. Not too much for me, though. I liked watching her. Not, um, stalker-ish, but she was such a pretty face, I want to kiss it so bad. And kiss places elsewhere.

That's right. I did think that.

I swear she was checking me out. Like she was considering something. I just hope it was the same thing I was thinking and not, you know, another broken nose. Besides, I hadn't done anything too bad. Yet.

After her eyes ran over me a couple times she met with my eyes. She had a lustful, yet fearful expression.

No fair. What's she so scared of? I'd never hurt her. If I laid a hand on her, it wouldn't be of the violent sort. I don't know why she thinks I try to kill her.

We're perfect for each other. What does she see in Jesse anyway? It's _us _whose meant to be. And lately, it's not just because she's a shifter and I'm a shifter and she's hot and I'm hot. It's _me _and her. Not _him._

Me and Suze, we're soul mates. We're made for each other. It's us against the world, actually, they don't even matter. They don't _exist. _It's all about _us._

So I did something that would earn me a huge spanking.

I kissed her.

Both my arms pushed against the bed on both sides of her, and I continued kissing her amazing soft lips.

I didn't want her to know all my feelings yet, though. So I tried hard to be in control of the kiss. I kissed her with force, and hard, and then she started to yield. Her arm had snaked around my neck, and her hand played with the curls of my hair, which felt _really _good. And her other hand rested on my hip.

Crap. I really didn't want her to know the extent of my feelings. Because sometimes, I'm so scared of them, I can't think. I tried to focus and not lose control, but then she started nibbling my bottom lip and pressed her tongue into my mouth, and sucked on my tongue.

I tried. I tried a lot. But my kiss became more weak and needy and she was in total control.

So I tried harder. I tried to duel with her tongue with mine, and then she gave a short moan into my mouth.

Suze's hands traveled down my chest, feeling every toned muscle through my shirt. She rested her hands on the top of my jeans, fingers through the belt loops.

Her touch drove me crazy with desire and need. A chill ran up and down my spine and the tips of my fingers and toes tingled.

Why her? Why was it her that made me so crazy? What was so special about her? I probably knew the answer to that, but then she moved her mouth kissing, nibbling my ear, going down my neck, sucking hard which would leave a nasty mark, I moaned.

And I did it as quiet as I could. This, you know, wasn't so quiet.

She pushed me over so I was lying on the other side of the bed.

I sighed, 'Oh Suze. Your lips are so soft.' I was trying to catch my breath.

Suze wasn't doing too good either, her breathing was really ragged like mine, and she didn't say anything back. It was really quiet again, and the only thing you could hear was me and her trying to catch our breaths.

I watched her chest rise up and down. Damn, she was so beautiful. I couldn't believe what we'd done. I mean, I understand what I'd done, that's believable, but her kissing back? Amazing. And it didn't end with an injury.

Okay, now I was getting scared. I didn't want her to beat me up, storm out of here, and give me the silent treatment for life. I expected her to, though. This was just too good to be true.

I watched her get off the bed, confusion in her eyes, which cause that in mine. I got up as well, but then she slapped my cheek, hard. I fell back on the bed, wincing. Sometimes Suze is too strong.

She left my room without saying a word, looking back at me before closing the door behind her.

Damn. Damn her. How could she do that? Like it meant nothing to her? She really likes playing with my emotions. Geez. And _I'm _the bad guy. She's probably going to run home to Jesse, not caring and forgetting about me.

She always gets pissed at me. I barely did anything wrong to her. I didn't say anything about Jesse this time. And she should stop using the whole 'you tried to kill me' excuse, because really, as of late, I was not trying to kill her. I never would. Women are just so hard to understand. She's like a roller coaster. Up and down, up and down. Mostly down. And let me tell you, down stinks. It smells so bad, like sweaty feet. I hate it.

But I don't hate _her. _Why can't I forget about her? Why can't I just hate her?

It's not fair. I don't hate her. It's quite the opposite, actually.

God. What _is _the opposite? I hate that word. It's not useful in my vocabulary. Because the girl I love hates me.

Crap. I said it. The 'L' word. What a gay word. It even sounds stupid. Love. Whatever. I don't love her. She doesn't even _like _me, why would I love her?

That's just it. I _don't _know why. Probably the first thing I don't know. Why? Why? Why? WHY? Why do I love her?

Oh my god. I am so whipped.


End file.
